Work Text:
2015
Spencer has been working at Defy for a year at this point and managed to work out a pretty decent schedule. Sure, he felt a little shitty he had (admittedly) really flexible hours compared to the other editors but it wasn’t like he was super useful during a full moon week. Bones aching as if he just ran a marathon, a hunger that never seems to go away, and everything became too much. He can literally hear how bright the sun is today. He experiences these symptoms every month, but somehow it never gets easier.
So when he walks into the kitchen and sees Shayne Topp (of Smosh 2nd Channel Fame™) staring at the open fridge, he gets it. He hasn’t truly talked to the guy but he’s picked up on the fact that in their channel’s weekly vidoes, Shayne doesn't appear on camera for 2 days out of the month, always around the same time Spencer’s off. He feels kinda bad; as cast, it’s not like he can take almost the whole week off like Spencer can. Dude probably feels like shit right now.
“Hey man,” Spencer walks a bit closer, letting the door close behind him. Shayne makes a noise that passes as a sort-of-acknowledgement but he still looks dazed. “Just gonna get my lunch real quick.”
They can both smell the meat in the brown bag. It's all Spencer can think about if he’s being honest with himself. 4 days before the full moon and he knows they’re both out of it, so when he steps to grab the bag and Shayne literally fucking growls at him, he’s able to hold back a laugh - also on account that Shayne immediately looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole.
“Shit, Jesus— Sorry”, Shayne stammers out, face beet red as he blinks his eyes to bring himself back to reality.
Spencer shrugs, “It’s all good.” He lets a second pass before finally grabbing his lunch. Shayne gives him a one-over.
“You’re one of the guys from Clevver. Spencer, right?”
“That’s me,” He already knows the answer but it feels polite to ask, “Did you bring your lunch?”
“Yep. Sorry again, it’s been a long week.”
Spencer snorts, “I too growl at people like a dog after a work week.” He’s being a little mean. Sue him. It doesn’t matter anyway since Shayne totally didn’t get what he meant, now pretending to scan the fridge. That’s fine. Spencer doesn’t want to push too much but the guy is obviously struggling here. “I’m not gonna tell anyone about it. Trust me, I’ve been fighting for my life all day— Dude, moment I’m in that lunch room? Tearing this shit up. I literally ordered like, 5 different burgers. I think one’s animal style.” Shayne quirks up an eyebrow in confusion, continuing to (pretending to) look for his imaginary food. Even more frustrating, he once again doesn’t seem to pick up on the hints. Spencer’s really gonna have to spell it out. They’re the only two people in the room but he still tries to keep his voice low, “You can stop bullshitting me. I know you’re counting down the days until the moon rises and this whole thing blows over for another month.”
By the way Shayne’s head snaps to look at Spencer, he’s finally picking up on what Spencer’s putting down. And he finally closes that goddamn fridge. If he’s about to play it off or object, Spencer doesn’t let him.
“Shayne. Come on man. I can tell you didn’t bring anything. Trust me,” He shakes his lunch for emphasis, “I don’t mind sharing.”
After a brief moment, Shayne relents with a sigh, “Yeah, okay. Alright.” There’s a feeling of unease in the air as they both walk to the lunchroom that is, thankfully, similarly empty.
“Wasn’t lying about the burgers by the way. There’s a shit load in here,” Spencer says as he pulls out the wrappers, “We’ll split it, yeah?”
A small quiet settles as they eat in silence. It’s not entirely awkward - Shayne doesn’t look like he wants to hide in a corner anymore - but his leg is shaking like a jackrabbit. Somehow, he's the first one to break the ice. “Does anyone else know?” He asks mid-bite.
“Mostly close friends and family. Here? Only some people in HR and the management department,” Spencer shrugs, “I only let my work know if it’s super imperative.”
Seemingly satisfied with that answer, Shayne nods (presumably in confirmation of the same) and resumes eating. He can sense something in Shayne's eyes whenever they make eye contact, and it makes a pit grow in Spencer’s stomach: distrust. In a way he gets it. The times he’s gone out and tried to meet others in the community, he hasn’t exactly had great interactions. There's faint scars on his forearms to prove it. But this isn’t a monthly meet-up he can avoid the emails of; this is his job and he doesn’t want to be walking on eggshells every time they come in and see each other.
Spencer relents, “It’s been in my family for a while. Skips a generation or two. Guess I got lucky.”
At first, he doesn’t think Shayne’s gonna respond, still looking down like he’s a kid that got yelled at. A beat passes before: “It’s been in our family for so long, we’re not even sure who got it first,” He scoffs out a humorless laugh, “Story is that one day, someone came home bleeding out and when the doctor came the next day, the scratch was already gone. Apparently they bit a chunk out of one of my great grandma’s leg.”
That makes Spencer wince. “I don’t even wanna remember how I acted when the wolf shit kicked in. There’s this huge dent in my old bedroom because I guess I was going ape shit and tried to bust my way outside.”
Shayne hums an agreement, “Never fun the first few times when you can’t control it. It gets better though, once you figure it out.”
“Let me know when you learn how to do that.”
“There’s ways to tame it, you know. Medical research is being done to find ways to alleviate some of the symptoms,” as if he’s explaining to a child. Look, Spencer’s done his own studying up on the condition. He knows a thing or two about how this works. “For example, yesterday, I read an article about how they’re taking blood samples to see if there's a way to prevent it for future generations.” Maybe it’s the culmination of how shitty this week has been, but there’s a flicker of anger building in him.
“Now you’re gonna tell me you’re a eugenicist?” The words come out more of a sneer than a question.
“What? No–”
“–Because that sounds pretty fucking eugenicist to me. Sorry I’m not going to take a bullet to help the medical field. This sucks, I get that, but you either learn to live with it or don’t.”
“No, no, yeah I agree man,” Shayne raises his arms in surrender, eyes impossibly wide. Spencer’s retort seems to have genuinely taken him by surprise, which also makes him feel slightly guilty. “I wasn’t saying it was right or that I agree with it. It just– it’s never something you want, y’know?” His voice goes soft again, almost sounding younger. Spencer can’t help but imagine a version of the man in front of him who had just found out this was going to be his life now.
And god, doesn’t that imagery trudge up some real shitty memories. No one tells you what’s happening until you’re a preteen trembling in the doctor’s office, moments from the nurse handing your mom a booklet titled Lycanthropy and its Effects on the Human Body: A Guide for Teens and Families. In that moment, he remembers one thing; wanting to curl up in a ball and sleep the rest of his existence off. This entire conversation has felt like a prelude to a stand off, two animals circling each other until one breaks and lurches forward. But, man, Spencer really doesn’t want that. In an act of what might resemble aposematism, he throws away another shred of dignity, “Second time it happened, I ended up in my neighbor’s backyard. Was completely covered in dirt. She still looks at me funny whenever I visit home and run into her.”
Humor might’ve not been the smartest method to break down Shayne’s walls but apparently it was the right one. A real laugh erupts from Shayne, and Spencer feels like he can actually smile back. Relief can’t even begin to describe what he feels. “Hey. Sorry about being super intense at first.” That’s dismissed by a hand wave.
“Dude, honestly. Don’t worry. Let’s keep this between us for now though, alright?” Of course Spencer nods. It’s not like he forgot that Shayne's only been here for a good few months, Spencer only having a bit more on him. He has some sort of trust from Shayne and he’s not looking to break that.
“This stays between the wolf boys, got it.” The beanie suffocating Shayne’s head blocks most of his eyebrows, but even then he can see the clear mock-annoyance as Shayne rolls his eyes, barely fighting off a grin.
“You are not calling us that.”
“Already adding it to the call sheet.”
—
2018
The days leading up to a full moon are rough but god, does he fucking hates the morning after. A bone shifts back into place when he rolls to his side, joints pulsing. There’s a chill coating his body and he can’t stop shivering. Presumably it’s last night’s sweat that cooled into a damp mist. It’s always reminded him of waking up from a bad dream, covered in a sheen of perspiration. He can feel the muscles in his jaw readjusting. It's best to wait it out - he’ll be curled up in bed for another hour before even attempting to get up. The rest of the day is basically spent on recuperating, let the whole de-wolfing process do its thing; he’ll put on a film he’s been meaning to watch and veg out with a cornucopia of snacks at his side. In his opinion, a perfect day. Then his phone rings. Loud and blaring. Caller ID reads ‘Shayne Topp’ and that leftover, primal white-hot anger starts to dissipate. But truly, he doesn’t want to answer his phone. Somehow he’s able to send a semi-coherent text.
hold on give m a min i woke up 5 seconds ago
Shayne’s one of the nicest dudes he knows at the Smosh office, full stop. They’re not particularly close - he only has his phone number because Shayne had wanted a part of a video cut - but since then, he’s made it a tradition to call Spencer the days after to check in (meaning: they just shoot the shit for half an hour). Still, it feels nice to be worried about. He doesn’t call this soon but Spencer doesn’t totally mind it. The more he’s awake, the less he hates literally everything so after a few minutes, he calls back.
“Hey, what’s going on?” No answer back. Only response is the sound of breathing. “You good?” The noise becomes ragged, and it sounds as if someone is close to gnashing teeth.
“Can you talk?” Shayne’s voice finally comes through the speaker with a pained twinge. Maybe Spencer should’ve FaceTimed instead, because whatever’s happening on the other side of the phone is sounding pretty fucking serious. “I’m fine,” Shayne adds like he can read Spencer’s mind, “Just talk. Literally about anything.”
“Uh,” Spencer pinches the ridge of his brow, trying to come up with something literally anything to talk about. “Oh. Did I ever tell you about the guys I met in college? I was looking to meet people in the community, branch out, all that. So I see this paper at the bottom of the bulletin board and I’m like, sick, I’ll see how it goes. So I get there and there’s only three dudes in the room. They’re all huddled together like a rat king. Wait, do you know what a rat king is? I’ll tell you later, it’s literally insane. Anyway, I’m about to walk out but they welcome me in. We start talking and it’s normal at first. They seem cool enough so we start getting into more deep discussion, and that’s when it goes off the rails. I mention alphas – as a joke mind you – and these dudes get so serious. Immediately stone faced. They then proceed to, I guess, mansplain about how we should be working out every other hour and eating actual raw meat to like, increase pheromones? Which we dont even have, we’re not actual wolves. Then it dawns on me; the only reason these guys put up that poster is to hook up with chicks. They were looking for an ‘omega’ to pass around, dude! I booked it. I didn’t even wanna stay around and debate with them about how totally fake that study is in the first place.”
While he’s talking, the breathing has noticeably calmed, reduced to small puffs of air. As goofy (and disgusting) as it might’ve looked from an outside perspective - two guys casually talking while their bones are literally contorting back into place - it was comforting in a way, that you could still live life normally with this condition. That it didn’t have to be a big deal.
(Besides, they’ve both been long desensitized to the feeling of keratin shrinking back into the body or tendons curling inwards. It takes a while! But you get used to it.)
“Feeling better? Scared me for a sec,” Spencer laughs but he isn’t entirely lying. Compared to others, his symptoms aren’t too bad. He’s heard plenty of horror stories of people taking a week to fully revert back to normal, sometimes more.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. Thanks,” Shayne fortunately sounds like he means it, “Sometimes it’s a little hard for me to… get out of it, y’know? I need a little push back to reality.”
That’s something else he’s found out through research; people can recover fine physically, it’s the mental part that’s the issue. They remain in fight or flight mode, so sometimes they’ll lash out. Those are probably the worst stories he’s heard - people getting marks on their permanent record for attacking a loved one or worse, someone who was in the wrong place and wrong time. Despite their routine, Shayne hardly talks about his experiences, letting Spencer complain most of the call. Whenever they talk in real life too, Shayne’s always been kind but he keeps a small distance. A loving guy for sure but always seems to be semi-wary. At least, around Spencer. He sometimes wonders if it’s everyone or just him who gets this cut off version. So he admits it: it’s mostly for selfish reasons he’s glad that Shayne confides that information to him.
“I call Courtney usually but I figured, ‘Spencer's probably available’. You’d understand more than anyone else in my life too,” Shayne huffs a laugh. “Actually, I gotta show you something. Can you facetime?”
Spencer’s not sure what he’s expecting but it isn’t Shayne showing off his massive ass canines that haven’t reverted back. The sight is a little jarring. “Bro. Can you even close your mouth?”
“Not even a little. I’ve been here looking like the dude from Tusk this whole time we’ve been on call.”
“Dude,” Spencer chuckles, “Don’t you literally have to shoot something tomorrow? You’re gonna look insane.”
“I know. I just asked Ian if I could take the day off or if we could incorporate it into the sketch or whatever. That's, like, the only good thing about Smosh being homeless right now. Defy stopped breathing down our necks,” The joke dies as it’s being spoken. Smosh as of now still exists and they both have enough faith in Ian to make it work but it’s going to be looking a little bleak for a bit, “How are you feeling about it?”
“Dunno. We’ll see if I have a job in a few months.” It’s not like he has imposter syndrome or anything, but he knows sometimes to cut costs, people need to be let go. He’s worked up enough goodwill and experience to be hired again but you never know.
Even without looking at the screen, he can hear the frown in Shayne’s voice, “What? No. Come on Spencer, you’ve been with Smosh longer than I have. You’re not going anywhere. Besides, they can’t separate the wolf bros like that.”
Spencer’s eyebrows rose, “Wolf bros? Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“Hell yeah man, already adding it to your contact info.”
“Okay,” He exhales a laugh, “Alright. Yeah.”
—
2021
‘I’m about to knock out,’ the handwriting reads and Spencer has to remind himself they’re on camera to hold back a chuckle. He’s still not used to this. Same can’t be said for Shayne, who throws himself back into the game after passing Spencer that note. The stream was close to ending - as evidenced by Courtney, Saige and Shayne all yelling at each other - so they could get away with some bullshit. This is fun and all but Spencer’s also ready to go on break. “Hold up, hold up. I think it’s my turn,” he says before flipping the card up. Immediately a chorus of yelling and groans follow.
“Oh my god Spencer!”
“I hate you, I literally hate you.”
“I was literally one card away–”
He gives his most politest smile to the monitor, “And that’s gonna be it for us, I think. Uh, we’ll be wrapping up pretty soon just to let you guys know. This was fun, let us know if you want us to play this again.” Everyone calls down in time to say their goodbyes. Courtney does throw a pillow from the couch at him after but hey, it wasn’t on camera.
(Okay, maybe the stream caught a millisecond of that. Big deal.)
He’s been in the same chair for a few hours now but now that he’s able to actually relax, he all but melts into the cushion. Technically he has a few more hours of work, but he finished up most of his edits already. He’s already daydreaming about that post-work nap. Hell, a mid-work-nap-at-your-desk sounds good too. His stomach rumbles. Now he’s thinking about food. He’s thinking Uber. Maybe Thai, or Italian. Italian sounds good.
“Don’t fall asleep on us bud,” he feels his arm get nudged and hears the sound of the chair next to him creaking. Huffing in mock annoyance, he opens an eye.
“Not even a minute?”
Courtney pats his shoulder again with a slight smile, "C'mon Spence. We’re almost on break. This can’t be comfortable.” He’s inclined to agree but can’t help but snuggle in, sensing her incoming eye roll. But they’re right, so he does eventually get up. His side of the office is looking a little like a cell but once he gets back into the groove of Premiere, it goes smoothly. The phone on his desk chimes softly in the background. A louder noise - the sound of wood being knocked on - pulls him out of his workflow. Shayne’s hand is on his desk, “Are we still on for later?”
“Later?” Spencer replies dumbly, “Wha-Oh. Yeah, man. We’re good.” Shayne doesn’t look convinced. Substitute for an apology he asks, “You got any ideas in mind or…?”
Shayne’s already turning to leave, "Surprise me.”
-
Putting his bag on a nearby chair, Shayne gives an apology on Courtney’s behalf again. Spencer’s been trying to invite them for a while, but most times something comes up. She always has an apologetic look the next day and promises to make it to the next one. It hasn’t happened yet but he can’t stay mad at them.
“It’s all good. Tell them they’re always welcome to come,” He redirects the conversation, “C’mon, I’ve got a plan. Are you down for some horror?” A standard shelf from IKEA or Amazon - he doesn’t remember - is filled with DVDs and VHS tapes. Shayne scans the shelf, ultimately nodding.
“I’m cool with that. Alright man, show me what you got.”
The next few minutes are spent with Spencer shuffling through his cases.“Oh I used to love this one! You’ve seen Underworld right? I had the biggest crush on her dude. I thought this was the pinnacle of cinema at one point,” He hands the box cover to Shayne for him to inspect. All the normal film bro movies are there (hey, he didn’t spend his time and money at film school to not become a cinephile) but there’s a tiny section he tends to gravitate towards during random times. It’s a steady collection of monster films he’s found over the years; some he bought from a $3 bargain bin, some are blockbusters he never got around to returning, most are bootlegs with the title scribbled on with marker. He doesn’t exactly know why he got into the habit of collecting these as a teen. All he knows is that the day after his first turning, he woke up, walked over to the local Redbox to rent a copy of Ginger Snaps, and watched it twice before putting it under his bed and sleeping the rest of the day away. The dusty case now sits next to a trilogy edition of Star Wars.
Shayne nods at the box cover, “That would be your type.”
“Hm,” He continues to card through the shelf, “What would you say is my type?”
“Based on everything I know about you? Probably someone who would’ve rejected you in high school. Or someone who could kill you.”
“What can I say? I like what I like,” Spencer shrugs as a response, “Well? Don’t leave me out to dry. Tell me some embarrassing shit about you. Give me that Shayne Topp lore.”
“I didn’t really have a big celebrity crush honestly,” Spencer eyes him suspiciously, “I didn’t! There was maybe one time—”
“—What time?” Spencer is totally not gonna let this go. He bats his eyes and tilts his head to drive home how much he’s not going to let it go. He’s especially not gonna let it go when Shayne sputters in response. Besides, there’s a little pink tint on Shayne’s face, how can he not?
“Fine! Jesus. I watched Waxwork with some acting friends after a shoot once. And it wasn't good but there’s this one actor - the main actor from Gremlins - and at first I thought, ‘oh it’s the Gremlins guy’. He wasn’t in the movie that much but when he was on screen, I would just totally zone in. I went home later and I was laying down in bed when I thought, ‘do I like guys?” Spencer doesn’t mean to crack a smile but he does, which leads to Shayne being more emphatic, “Seriously! That was probably the first time I ever even thought about it!”
“Hey man,” Spencer raises his hands in defense, “No judgement here. I’m not even gonna tell you about my first guy crush.” He probably shouldn’t have said, judging on the way Shayne suddenly looks at him like a cat that caught the canary.
“Oh. Oh, I’m totally going to get that out of you one day.”
“No you won’t.” Now with a good stack of DVDs in his arms, he hands the choices over. It’s become a little bit of a ritual whenever they hang out - Spencer picks out films to watch, but it’s Shayne who ultimately makes the final decision. He’ll tilt the box, read the back once or twice, and either pass it back with a shake of the head or hold onto it. It’s silent except for the shuffling of plastic and little sounds of agreement or disagreement from Spencer. He ends up with two movies, one in each hand.
“So,” Spencer asks, "Wanna relive your gay awakening or see a dude beat up a bunch of zombies?”
“Let’s watch some good old Ash Williams.”
They share a bag of store-bought movie theatre popcorn and talk about The Evil Dead series’ trivia over the sounds of gore. The credits start to roll and by checking the nearby window, it’s nearly pitch black outside. “Damn, I didn’t think we started that late,” Spencer remarks as he picks up the leftover bowls to put them in the dishwasher, “You good to drive?” Shayne always says the same thing but it still feels polite to ask. Sure enough, he looks up from stacking cups and gives a polite nod. “Alright, be careful then.” There’s a calm peace and it should be comforting. It isn’t, with no fault on anyone’s end. Well, maybe some fault on Spencer’s end.
It’s an admittedly stupid thought that’s been plaguing his mind for a while now. He feels certain in saying they’re friends at this point, but this - this - is so much different. So far, he’s almost brought it up twice; the first time was when the workday was over and they were walking back to their respective cars. He didn’t even get to the second half before awkwardly laughing it off. The second time, they were in the green room on opposite sides of the couch. It came out as more of a mumble than anything. Both times Shayne looked at him so expectantly, it made the words die in his throat. Because that’s the truth; Shayne will always be nice and, god, the last thing he wants is to be let down nicely. This time though, they’re in his territory, no confines of work around. Besides, the third time's the charm.
“Hey. Before you go, I gotta ask you something.” It feels intimidating to look him in the eyes so he opts to look at the unstacked kitchenware in the corner. “You can tell me no. I won’t get offended or anything. But.” Saliva is beginning to coat his mouth, so much so that he has to force a gulp. Nevermind. He isn’t going to do this.
“But what?” Footsteps come closer until half of his peripheral view is Shayne, who continues to angle himself until Spencer can’t avoid looking at him. Jesus, this is the second time today he’s given Spencer the concerned parent look. It does next to nothing in calming his nerves, but Shayne pushes forward, “Whatever it is - you know I’m not gonna judge you for it.” The tone in his voice is soft with maybe a hint of confusion. For how abrupt the mood has changed, Shayne’s handling it pretty well. No wonder he got that psychology degree. Even to himself, it’s obvious how much he’s stalling. But he’s still being stared at; it’s clear Shayne’s not leaving until Spencer spits it out.
“I was thinking–”
“Okay, never a good sign.”
“Oh fuck off,” He feels himself smile slightly, “So. This month it’s happening on a Saturday, I checked. Not sure if you knew. I’m just on top of shit like that.” The remark is stilted. Shayne’s subsequent eyebrow raise and smirk confirm that thought. “Sorry. Stalling again. I just-fuck. I think we’ve become friends in the past few years. And I think there’s a level of trust we have with each other. Plus, we’re the only two people we know who are.. like this.” He clears his throat under the guise of casualness. “Basically - I’m just gonna come out and say it - I was wondering if there’s ever a chance of us spending time together. During it.”
“During.. during a full moon?” There’s an unfamiliar lilt in his voice but it doesn’t sound angry. That alone gives him the courage to finally face Shayne, staring back.
“Yeah. During a full moon.”
He tries to ignore the emotional flash of hurt when Shayne steps back. It’s not in the way where it’s as if he’s been burned, more so resembling a jolt of surprise, like a firework going off outside or being snuck up on. The fan whirs in the background. It offers Spencer some sort of relief from his ears and face burning up. Wordlesly, Shayne goes to grab his bag, shrugging it over his shoulder so rushedly it hits his hip like a Newton's cradle. Spencer’s anticipating an apology, the front door closing with a squeak. Instead, Shayne sighs. “It’s not that I don’t want you there. I mean, I’ve heard from a lot of people that the presence of someone else helps calm you down somewhat. I would like to. But I don’t think it’s safe. You know I’ve told you about how bad it gets. Spence, I could really hurt you. I appreciate you for thinking of me, but I can’t.”
That was it then; a very clear no, something he had been expecting. It makes no sense, then, that he wants to keep pushing; it was a no but it was a hesitant one. After tonight, there’s no way in hell he’ll ever mention it again. The logical side of his brain is chastising him for the thought, because - in all honesty - there’s no reason for this to matter this much. (Okay, he’s lying. There is a sort-of-reason he cares and then the actual reason, and god he can’t tell which one’s worse). Even as the energy has returned to normalcy and they talk like nothing happened, two words are sticking out in his head.
Sure. Okay. Fuck it.
“You were the one that said earlier I go for people who could kill me,” Shayne looks like he’s gonna say something which, right now, is the last thing he wants, “I know, I know. Look, I’m getting to a point. And I’m not gonna push after this. I understand where you’re coming from, but what if there’s a chance it works out fine? You also told me how shitty you feel before and after. We can feel shitty together, is all I’m saying. You need someone to look after you too. Like I said, I won’t push more than this, but consider it a little more.”
He doubts Shayne will do that, but as he’s opening his car door, he shrugs. “I’ll think about it.” The door shuts and Spencer watches him drive away. Tonight the moon isn’t even visible; only flashes of satellites light the sky. It’s not a shooting star but it’s close enough. He’s hoping he didn’t fuck things up completely.
-
A few days later, Courtney sits next to him during their break. Today feels weird. Their smile looks too tight and their laugh doesn’t meet their eyes. They spend a nondescript amount of time poking the scraps on the plate. When he decides to ask what’s wrong, the only reply he gets is a sideways glance. “Can we talk for a sec?” she asks when he’s cleaning up. The walk to the green room feels stretched out and it especially doesn’t help that neither of them are speaking to each other. Courtney’s about to open the door when she turns to him, "This is so awkward– Dude, it’s nothing serious.” She pauses for a moment. “Well.. like, maybe a little. But it’s nothing bad. Promise.” Her lip quirk up as she pulls him to the couch. “So. I’ve been told a little something. I’m kind of sure you know what that is?”
Oh shit. “I have an idea,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I wasn’t overstepping right? I know you guys probably spend that time together."
“No, you’re fine. I already told you that,” they tease, “Are you good? You've been acting so weird. Oh, wait. Is it because it’s coming soon?” The question comes out gentler than the rest of their words, it’s sweet. He lets out a breath of a laugh.
“Nah, not yet but I guess I’ve been a little off. We can talk about that later. Right now I’m thinking I’ll just let you finish what you wanted to say.”
“Yeah, maybe you should. Stop whatever spiral you’re going down and let me talk,” the pause of breath marks the end of their normal conversation, “I’m not against it, if that was what you’re wondering. Actually I’m kinda glad you asked. He's picky with that, even with me; I can count the number of times he’s let me watch over him. And it’s not fair that he has to be alone. So the idea of him having some support during it? All for it. I’m just worried for your guy’s sake.” The nervous look in her face returns, “Not gonna lie, I’ve done my own research on the topic. And I’ve heard good things. I’ve also heard really, really not good things that’s making me a little anxious. Not trying to lecture you or anything, but it’s something to keep in mind, y’know?”
He knows what they’re talking about, it’s what he’s been trying to account for amidst the frenzying thoughts of ‘what if what if’. Last thing either of them want is to wake up with battle scars. That and the look Courtney would give him if he had hurt Shayne - she might understand in theory how they have no control over what happens when they turn, but it’s different when seeing dried blood and puffy, stretched marks. He’s seen them happy, frustrated, maybe scared but never genuinely afraid. To imagine that directed at him is… christ.
“I get that.” It feels needed to say.
“Mhm. So,” they tap their nails on the cushion, “let’s make a compromise.” From the little giggle they do, his face must show his surprise. “I’m okay with it only if I’m left on call and can hear what’s going on. If I hear anything funny, I’m heading over. That sound good with you or?”
“What? No, that’s totally good, dude. Honestly that would be awesome; it’d be way less awkward like that.” Courtney Miller is the smartest person ever. He’s gotta tell her that more often. “Where would you be though?”
“Oh, around the area. Or in my car. I’m going to take Bones and Birdie with me, they’re still getting used to us so it’ll be nice to have a little solo time with them. I would be upstairs but - I’m gonna be so honest - it gets so loud I literally can’t focus on anything else so I just gotta go.” Oh yeah. He kinda forgot how annoying it must be to live with someone with lycanthropy during a full moon. Explains why when he used to wake up and walk to the kitchen the day after, everyone looked like they wanted to strangle him.
“You’re gonna have to put that volume so low. There's gonna be two people howling it up in your ear.”
“Ugh. True,” They groan, “Why do you guys do it? Like everytime? You’re literally in a room alone, no one is gonna respond to your awoo’s!”
“Hey. Ask Wolf-Spencer that, not me. I have no idea what goes through that dude’s mind.”
“Aww wait. I wish you could talk when you’re in wolf mode. Talking to little wolf Spence and Shayne,” she cooes as if they aren’t fucking ginormous when they transform. Her voice softens, “We’re okay?”
“More than okay,” he nods.
“Alright,” they offer one last smile before ushering him out of the green room, “Back to work, soldier!” They hold onto his shoulders the way back. Obviously, he lets her.
-
Spencer
hey
so i talked to court. they said they’re ok with it only if theyre on call
but i wanted to talk to you too
sorry for doing it over phone
Shayne
No, it's fine. Over the phone is cool lol
Yeah me and Courtney discussed it. Actually, we talked about it when I came home from movie night
oh shit really lmao
Mhm
Ok I think I know what you’re gonna say so let me tell you right now: yes I’m on board
Funny enough I was more for it than Court
Shit wait maybe I shouldn’t say that. What i meant was they were hesitant, since they’ve seen on forums of ppl biting eachother’s face off
she told me that
ig we’re like hamsters kinda
Hamsters?
hamsters are insanely territorial dude they beat the shit outta eachother. its like a wwe match in their cages
How do you know this
Stop changing the subject
im not im making a parallel
???
you dont want the hamsters to hurt eachother right. sometimes they’ll get along for a few hours but instincts kick in. so they recommend to keep them in separate cages.
I guess then yeah its like two hamsters.
Except its wolves instead. And wolves are a lot less violent than hamsters apparently
it appears so. wolves actually form packs
okay cool then if everyone’s okay with it we’ll do a test trial
but if you wanna opt out do so dont be afraid of hurting my feelings
Same sentiment goes to you :)
Btw remember bring a blanket comforter or any sort of cover
for?
You know why
oh
lmao i hadnt even thought of that
you dont. yknow. free roam after
Do you???
Nvm I don't want to know. You better not forget that blanket
ill try not to
talk to you later
Talk to you later Spence, have a good rest of the day
same to you
-
Spencer shifts the gear into ‘park’, resisting the urge to hit his head on the wheel. The sun is out but orange is beginning to color the sky. It’s not time yet but it’s not too far from it either. You’re the one who asked for this, he reminds himself, you can’t chicken out now. The whole month had gone by both sonically fast and molasses slow, and he’s been walking a tight line of dread and anticipation. Even now there’s a tug of nausea in his stomach that only pulls deeper the more he thinks of each and every possibility that could happen. This is going to go on for forever if he doesn’t stop it. Something that almost resembles bravery stirs and he grabs his bag and shuts the door before he can psych himself out of it.
He’s waiting now, balancing on the balls of his heels as the doorbell buzzes. Oddly enought, the droning reminds him of the cicadas back in Florida that emerged during the spring and covered his window pane in the morning. Something about their presence was comforting when he was younger. Their song signaled the beginning of something new, whether it be the day or year. When he turned, things changed; they began to represent a countdown. Once you stop hearing cicadas, that means it’s officially night time. He started to spray insecticide on his window sill, begged his parents to turn the lights off outside, anything to keep them away. One day he woke up to that blaring noise and it’s like he went on autopilot. Grabbing a binder, he had pushed up the pane and slammed the object down until it was completely quiet. The aftermath was a smashed mixture of broken wings and twitching limbs. He was red-eyed and sniffling the rest of the day and refused to tell anyone why.
The door opens and, thank god, the buzz stops. Shayne lets him in and walks over to the kitchen, “Made some food if you want any.” There’s a phone on top of the counter who he assumes must be Courtney. No sound comes from the speakers so they must’ve muted themselves.
“Oh, for real? You didn’t have to do that. Thanks man.” He had eaten a few hours earlier but just the smell is making drool fill his mouth. It tastes as good as it looks; the steak has a good bite, juice dripping onto his plate. There’s definitely red stains on his beard, confirmed by Shayne who passes Spencer a napkin. It’s less awkward than he imagined - they make conversation and it almost feels like a normal hang out - and somehow worse because he rememberes they’re gonna be totally fucking naked in front of each other in approximately 2 hours. When it’s in his dreams? Awesome. Real life? It’s giving him flashbacks to middle school gym class.
“We could chill for a bit, play some Mario Kart or something. My Switch is fully charged,” Shayne says once they’re done eating.
“Sounds good,” He lays down on the couch, “I feel like I’m getting princess treatment right now. This is sick.” Normally he dicks around on his phone until there’s a weird pressure on his head, which has become the main signal that he’s about to turn, and only then does he head down to his basement to ride out the pain. “Next you’re going to tell me there’s a comforter down there too.”
“Do you rawdog these days?” Shayne scoffs, “Dude. I have an entire shelf of pain meds and heating pads. You gotta step your game up. We can take those down if you want.”
“I doubt they’ll help.”
“Sometimes they do. Mostly during the first half hour. I’ve noticed they kinda wear off after that.” Spencer figured that. If bullets can’t kill him, there’s no way over the counter drug store pills will provide any relief. “The main thing I hate is the shaking. I bang myself up almost all the time. I found something that helps me through it but it's so genuinely embarrassing I’m not even gonna show it to you or use it tonight.” He laughs, running a hand through his hair.
Spencer sits up immediately, “Do tell.”
“No, no. Not telling you. You’d hold it over my head for months.”
“Probably. But tell me.”
“You’re not letting this go anytime soon, are you.” When Spencer only blinks back, he sighs. “Whatever you do, do not laugh.”
“Scout's honor.”
Shayne digs through one of the cabinets and pulls out a seemingly empty basket. Walking over to where Spencer is sitting, he pulls out the contents and wow, okay. Shayne glares at him, “Do not laugh.”
“I’m not, I’m not. It’s just— Is this for other purposes too or?”
“No! Jesus, Spencer.” His face has never been this red, “It’s only for the turning process. The thrashing can aggravate you further and it causes more property damage when that happens. It’s recommended for you to calm yourself down as much as possible before the transformation starts.”
“Right.” Spencer is trying really, really hard not to laugh. “And along the line you figured shibaring yourself is your best option.”
“Not my whole body,” Shayne rolls his eyes, “Just the arms and legs.”
“The idea of taking an edible never crossed your mind?”
He shakes his head,“I’d get anxious with weed.”
“Fair. You know I have a million questions right.”
“Yep,” He puts the rope back into the basket and gives Spencer a shit eating grin, “and none of them are getting answered. Let’s play some Mario Kart.”
Spencer wins each round. Shayne looks like he’s trying to explode him with his mind. So far this night is turning out to be amazing. He briefly forgets what he was so worried about until, as always, he feels a dull pressure is forming in his head. His mouth goes dry. “Uh. Shayne?” the question makes him look up from his controller. “I think it’s time dude.”
Shayne springs up immediately, ditching the Switch. “You want me to bring some pills down?”
“No, I’m good. Show me where the basement is.” The room is going in and out of focus and he feels slightly pathetic reaching his hand out. Thankfully, Shayne doesn’t say anything, instead draping Spencer’s arms onto his shoulder as they walk down the hallway. “Why aren’t you..?”
“It hits all at once for me.” They’ve reached the steps now. “Don’t worry about me right now though. C’mon, sit.” He gently lays Spencer down on the floor. There’s a rug, scratch marks hatching the fabric, but it provides some warmth in the otherwise cold room. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to get your bag.” A whine nearly escapes his throat. This stage is the most humiliating; him and the stupid animal are 50/50 split, meaning he’s mostly himself but the part of him that makes these pitiful noises and functions as a kicked stray is looming over.
It feels like ages have passed when the bag plops next to him. He’s still aware enough to mutter out a thanks. Weirdly, there’s a newfound pressure on the top of his head. He knows his pain areas by now and this isn’t one of them. It’s when there's a sharp tug pulling his head upwards does he register it’s Shayne’s hand. Shit, he should’ve noticed something was off. When they were walking down the steps, there was a wobble in his posture that wasn’t there before. His focus had looked dazed too as he went back up. Now, harsh pants are echoing in the room as Shayne bends down and looks at Spencer how a wolf would look at a deer.
“Shayne,” He hates how his voice trembles. No, it doesn’t matter how inhuman his pupils look - blown out so wide he can barely see any blue - or the low growl emanating from his throat, this is his friend. “Hey bud. I know you recognize me.” He at least hopes so. “Thanks for getting my stuff.” The grip in his hair tightens. By the feeling of it, there’s definitely claws growing in. “I’m not like you. I’ve never done hard research on this stuff so I’m not sure what to do in this scenario. Do I like, roll over? Nevermind, that’s weird. But me talking seems to be keeping you at bay. Okay. I can do that.”
The ache in his legs gives him a clear warning: he doesn’t have much time. “I know you’re not gonna hurt me, that’s for sure. You kept mentioning how worried you were about that and, not gonna lie, I was trying not to roll my eyes in front of you.” Shayne’s hands have moved to his shoulder, trapping him in place. The nails dig into Spencer’s skin. It hurts but he can tell it’s not enough to draw blood. “Even now you’re being careful. Because you’re a nice person like that. Always looking out for others, making sure everyone’s taken care of. ” Shayne sticks his head in between his shoulder blades, canines hovering above the skin. “You’re far gone enough that I feel comfortable saying this in front of you: It’s really sweet. Sorry. Gay moment.” His whole body is aching now and it’s getting harder not to slur his words. “God, I hope we’ll be okay after this.” It takes one last breath before his vision goes white from pain.
-
He always wakes up trembling. There’s goosebumps coating his arms and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead that drips onto the floor. Shayne and Courtney’s basement floor. His neck cracks from how fast his head whips up, and there’s a sprain he can feel coming. “Shayne?” The voice that comes out doesn’t sound like him. Cough drop later, checking on his friend first. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he’s able to make out a figure, curled in on itself. His chest and shoulders aren’t rising. Pain shoots through his knees but it doesn’t even matter right now because he’s already shaking Shayne’s arm. “Shayne? C’mon buddy.” Shaking Shayne’s arm is doing nothing so he taps his cheek then he nudges Shayne this time with his head and nothings fucking working. Courtney must be back in the house by now. He calls out their name just as Shayne shifts below him, sighing a deep breath.
His eyes are shut tight as he mutters, “You better have that blanket on.”
Spencer feels a stupid smile appear on his face,“You’re such a dick.” He’s still rubbing up on the guy but right now, he could care less. Besides, he can always blame it on Wolf-Spencer. “Wait. There’s no marks on you or anything?” He had to make sure of that before getting his hopes up.
“I don’t think so?” Shayne sits up and – look, Spencer is a simple man and the dude’s been going to the gym. As it stands though, there’s only faint sleep lines tracing his back. Shayne has the most extreme case of bedhead imaginable on a person, they haven’t been face to face but his morning breath is probably as egregious as Spencer's must be, and Spencer can’t stop looking. That shitty, shitty, selfish reason he wanted to do this in the first place creeps in the back of his head. He forces himself to look away. Even if he wanted and god did he want, he couldn’t. “Hold on. Let me check your back,” Shayne’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “Turn around for a sec.” Both hands land on his shoulder and maneuver him to the side. Obligingly, he follows the movement, straightening up to allow Shayne to fully inspect. In any other situation, he’d feel overexposed, more naked than he is right now. But small ghost touches are traveling upside his spine and these small puffs of air hit the back of his head; it reminds him of getting your hair washed at the salon when you were younger.
He turns his head slightly, “All good?” He's not sure what he was expecting when they make eye contact, but it isn’t Shayne’s pupils to be still round and blown out. The tip of canines stick out of his mouth as awkwardly as ever; that explains the apparent mouth-breathing action. Idly, he wonders how he must look himself. Shayne is somehow able to read Spencer’s mind and they both let out a laugh.
“Yeah, you’re all good.”
The door creaks open with Courtney peeking their head out. “Everyone decent?”
“Uh. As decent as you can get.”
She accepts that response, a quick nod as she makes her way down. “Cool. Let’s go get breakfast. I’m starving.”
Nothing good is open at the ass crack of dawn, apparently, so they end up at a shitty 24-7 diner down the street. Courtney all but inhales their omlette, Shayne is only barely eating his hash browns and eggs and spends most of the time arguing with both Spencer and Courtney over rankings of breakfast food. It gets to a point where Spencer is more than a little worried Courtney’s gonna choke Shayne out in public. He pulls his phone out for a moment - when the both of them aren’t looking - and takes a picture. His shoulder aches as he puts the phone in his lap. Fuck that, he smiles into the bite of his pancakes, he’ll let himself want. Look where it’s got him already.
-
“Jesus!—” Courtney jumps, dropping some popcorn from her bowl, and looks at the two of them in disbelief. “You guys did not warn me on how gory this was gonna be.”
“It’s not that bad,” Spencer replies as he grabs snacks from the fridge.
“That’s ‘cause you’ve probably seen this like, a million times. I’ve been dropped here, no context, and now it’s just people getting their face ripped off!” He hopes they don’t hear the chuckle under his breath; as if they aren’t the one who’s seen Jennifer’s Body twice that year already.
“It’ll get less gory as it goes on, but you gotta admit the VFX is sick,” Shayne chimes in.
“True. Imagine we got a VFX artist like this for Smosh. Main channel videos would kill, dude.”
“Do not mention work right now, I swear to god.” Spencer returns to the couch with candy bags and water (hey, they’ve gotta stay somewhat healthy). Courtney pats the seat in between them and Shayne. This time, Spencer let the new guest of honor have the say in the movie, who had picked it out due to the DVD cover art and didn’t read any of the background information behind it. (‘I want to be surprised,’ she had said. Spencer was going to say something but Shayne gave him a look that translated to ‘let this play out’.) “Glad you were able to make it to one of these.”
Courtney’s smile makes her eyes crinkle.“Me too. This is nice, me and my guys,” They poke both of the men’s cheeks. It’s comfortably quiet for a beat until, “So did Shayne show you his bondage thing or?”
“Yeah, he showed me his bondage thing.”
Shayne groans, covering his face with his hands. “Remind me to never tell you guys anything ever.”
It’s sunset when they’re wrapping up this time, putting away any leftover snacks and stacking the plates in the sink. He decides not to ask if they’re comfortable to drive home, with yellow beams filling in the dark spots of his living room. “We need to do this again sometime soon. Wait. I’m gonna make a group chat.” Courtney gets to rapid typing on her phone. For a moment, her expression tightens and she leans over to Shayne, showing him something on the screen. A question is in their eyes - one Spencer has no clue on what it could be - and by some weird sort of blonde-on-blonde mental connection, he seems to know what she’s asking. He nods and she responds with a small smile, one that looks way too intimate for Spencer to be looking at. It leaves as soon as it appears and the two say goodbye, Courtney pulling him into a side hug before getting into the car.
The house is silent now, minus the blu-ray menu theme looping in the background. Somewhere in the house, his phone dings. It takes him a while but he finds it, stuffed in between the couch. Opening his notifications, he almost drops the phone back on the couch when he reads his most recent message:
pack 🐺
Courtney
This’ll be our movie night chat, so whenever we’re all free we can plan something together :) Today was so so much fun, I’m glad I was finally able to go.
Oh btw. We’ve been talking about this: if you ever want to stay during a full moon day again, you’re more than welcome to. In fact, we’ll get mad if you don't come over!! It sucks being alone during it. Trust me, Shayne knows firsthand.
Sorry, we didn’t get the chance to say this in person. Have a good rest of the night Spence.
P.S Shayne says gn too
He reads the title of the group chat again. Then again, and again for good measure. Maybe that wolf side of him is always there because he can feel some familiar, primal sense of euphoria. Pack pack pack races through his mind, the words wrapping around him like a blanket. He should feel stupid - the name is definitely meant to be a joke - but by the grace of god he doesn’t. Even as he gets ready for sleep, even while he’s laying in bed, the thought doesn’t cease. Sure, it’s not the traditional sense of the word, but it’s his. He can’t believe he’s even thinking this but he can’t fucking wait for next month.